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"At least it was money well spent.." the thought drifted through the mind of the robed figure as he approached the crossroads warily. The area had been effectively shut down, but the industrious smugglers and thieves had ways around such things...for a price.
The figure paused and viewed the lands, seeing more than what simply met the eye. The telltale signs of a fierce but brief battle were apparent. Scorched and pocked earth, deep furrows and sundered ground where magic had taken its toll. Even reality rippled and quivered where it had been violated by raw force. The Weave practically sang to him where latent and raw magical force still existed, the backwash and residue of powerful spells.
What he was about to do would be difficult with so much residual magic in the air...but the rumors had left him with a task and test of his own skills that could further his own studies...so he tried.
The spell of the Soul Net itself was almost second nature now. He had developed and used it so much that it was almost a part of him. What he was doing with it now, however, was quite different. He had experianced this "Witch King" through the Net once before, drawing raw data from its existance, trying to determine exactly what the being was. He had never severed the connection he had established originally, though he knew beyond a doubt the spell itself had since faded. Now, though, as he went through the motions of the spell and cast his "net" out...instead of letting it fall as he normally would though, he held it poised in his mind..the shimmer never fading and it looked so much like a giant and intricate web suspended before his outstreached hand. Now he focused on that connection he had made, and sought it through the point in which it was made. He sent his Will casting out to find the residual imprint in the Weave as he had set it the previous day.....and was rewarded. Latching on, he released the Net and bound it to the connection he had rediscovered. The strain was nearly unbearable...sweat broke out upon his head and his face paled a great deal, the Net shimmered again, then vanished; pulled as if by a great vacuum into the air.
Long seconds passed and the robed figure began to breath hard, gasping for breath as though after a long run. A small trickle of blood ran from his nose, but he dared not move. Suddenly his outstreched hand jerked and he closed it and pulled as if pulling in a line. His face flushed as if under a great strain, but his eyes turned up as if he were smiling. A brilliant shimmer erupted from his hand and raced outward, tracing a line in the evening air that vanished several yards later. Only the robed figure knew, however, before darkness claimed him and he slumped senseless to the ground, that a questing thought had been sent with that shimmer....
"How can you be helped?"
The figure paused and viewed the lands, seeing more than what simply met the eye. The telltale signs of a fierce but brief battle were apparent. Scorched and pocked earth, deep furrows and sundered ground where magic had taken its toll. Even reality rippled and quivered where it had been violated by raw force. The Weave practically sang to him where latent and raw magical force still existed, the backwash and residue of powerful spells.
What he was about to do would be difficult with so much residual magic in the air...but the rumors had left him with a task and test of his own skills that could further his own studies...so he tried.
The spell of the Soul Net itself was almost second nature now. He had developed and used it so much that it was almost a part of him. What he was doing with it now, however, was quite different. He had experianced this "Witch King" through the Net once before, drawing raw data from its existance, trying to determine exactly what the being was. He had never severed the connection he had established originally, though he knew beyond a doubt the spell itself had since faded. Now, though, as he went through the motions of the spell and cast his "net" out...instead of letting it fall as he normally would though, he held it poised in his mind..the shimmer never fading and it looked so much like a giant and intricate web suspended before his outstreached hand. Now he focused on that connection he had made, and sought it through the point in which it was made. He sent his Will casting out to find the residual imprint in the Weave as he had set it the previous day.....and was rewarded. Latching on, he released the Net and bound it to the connection he had rediscovered. The strain was nearly unbearable...sweat broke out upon his head and his face paled a great deal, the Net shimmered again, then vanished; pulled as if by a great vacuum into the air.
Long seconds passed and the robed figure began to breath hard, gasping for breath as though after a long run. A small trickle of blood ran from his nose, but he dared not move. Suddenly his outstreched hand jerked and he closed it and pulled as if pulling in a line. His face flushed as if under a great strain, but his eyes turned up as if he were smiling. A brilliant shimmer erupted from his hand and raced outward, tracing a line in the evening air that vanished several yards later. Only the robed figure knew, however, before darkness claimed him and he slumped senseless to the ground, that a questing thought had been sent with that shimmer....
"How can you be helped?"
